


Fine Assets

by dragongoats



Series: Rebellious Apostate Herald Seeks Redemptive Templar Commander [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Bisexual Cullen Rutherford, F/M, Non-Binary Inquisitor, Shameless Smut, Trans Inquisitor, cullen is an eager bottom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 03:40:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12696576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragongoats/pseuds/dragongoats
Summary: Cullen is eager, the Inquisitor likes to take charge, it's a mutually beneficial arrangement.





	Fine Assets

**Author's Note:**

> Smutty stand-alone for this series. Inquisitor is AFAB, non-binary and was a rage-filled circle mage yet somehow has fallen for a templar anyway. Cullen is bisexual and generally awkward and sweet when not being totally professional and badass. The taunting and teasing is fully consensual and desired by both parties.

The Inquisition agent wandered along the ramparts at a leisurely pace toward the Commanders quarters. She took in the uncharacteristic stillness of Skyhold. It was pleasant to no longer hear the pounding of hammers or cries of the wounded. She paused as her hand lifted to knock on the wooden door, a formality. Her knuckles barely grazed the rough surface when Cole appeared in a mist of smoke and ash near her.

“I wouldn’t go in now, he is... busy?” Cole cocked his head curiously at the unopen door, the long hat casting his face in shadow.

“Wouldn’t...?” The agent screwed up her face, uncertain if this was truthful, then she heard a ragged, desperate, unmistakable pleasurable cry from within. Her cheeks flushed hot in sudden acute awareness. _The Commander... was busy?_ She turned on her heel. “Right. Well... good. I shall return later.”

“Later.. good. Tomorrow? He’s.. happy. It’s... good.” Cole barely seemed to notice her, but she nodded anyway, shaking her head in embarrassment and disbelief.

“A-as you say, Serrah. None of my bloody business anyhow...” She muttered and continued her patrol.

*

The Commander’s office was a stark contrast to the calm cool exterior; the air was heated, with ragged pants loud within the stone walls. Cullen was bent over his steady wooden desk, the Inquisitor at her knees, face and hands full of gorgeous, pliable ass. With each long, swipe of her tongue, the Commander sunk further and further into mindless, glorious, bliss.

With her tongue probing and dipping relentlessly into his hole, she couldn’t help but groan, the taste and feel of him eliciting a dangerous and tantalizing thrill in her. Cullen quivered and let out a sharp sob.

“Don’t forget to breathe, Commander,” she admonished gently, lips dragging along heated, sensitive skin, a slow smile on her face.

“Breathe? I can’t even...” he tried to catch his breath. “.. C-can’t even think _straight_.”

An amused smirk. “Was that a pun, my dear Commander? I’m impressed.”

He let out a strained chuckle, moving his arms into a new position, looking back at her with darkened eyes. She gave him a wink and dipped down to kiss his back and shoulders, letting her tongue trace scars and muscles.

“You’ll be the death of me, I swear it.” He grumbled, without any real heat.

“And still you remain... must be doing something right.” She smiled against his skin, nipping at his flank. Her hands sought out a small vile of oil and popped the stopper with a familiar sound which never failed to send a bolt of heat through her.

_Breathe_.

Her fingers slipped in easily, warmed with her magic so he wouldn’t flinch. The sigh of contentment he gave makes her feel warm and fuzzy, beyond the obvious pressing want of him.

She curled up her fingers, letting them drag and press until Cullen made a low whine at the back of his throat, pushing back against her firm hand, requesting more. She let out a small stream of magic flow through her fingers, a simple trick she picked up from the circle, but effective. His entire body convulsed under her touch. “M-Maker’s Breathe.”

“Has anyone done this to you before, Commander?” Her voice was gentle with just a hint of bite. She punctuated her words with a firm twist of her hand. His response dissolving into a shiver and groan. _Maker, he was coming deliciously undone._

His voice was thick with pleasure. “Once, but _Maker_... not like this. Not like... that.” _Another reason mages are superior,_ she thought smugly.

“What is your evaluation of the situation, then?” She mock commanded him, all assured and imposing, as if they were co-workers, not lovers. As if her hand wasn’t fucking all reason and sanity from his mind. It was a simple, yet enjoyable game. Trevelyan’s rough tunic scraped along his flushed skin as she leaned over him to drag her tongue and teeth along the sensitive skin behind his jaw. “Does it meet the Commander’s expectations?” She held his hip close to her, pressing in harder, twisting. His head falls to his folded arms, pushing back on her and rolling his hips, groaning low and loud. Each motion pushing him closer to the edge of breaking. She licked the pool of sweat at his lower back, reveling in the intimacy. “Or... perhaps I need to work on my technique in order to please you more sufficiently?”

She pressed her groin against his thigh, letting him feel her, hot and dominating. His strangled moan made her smile. “Please,” he dragged out. Perhaps she felt some sympathy for his situation. Though not too much, she grinned evilly.

“How may I assist, _Commander_?” Her emphasis and mocking tone making him choke down a laugh. “I-I Maker, I want to feel you against me.”

“Am I not close enough?” She rolled her hips then abruptly stepped away, the loss of connection making him whimper. Her gut churned in delight and desire, utterly pleased with his eager submission. Like a trained puppy he stayed there, leaned over, legs spread. His leather pants half pulled down his bare thighs and tunic pushed up; he looked utterly debauched. She should not delight in this power, but she did. He certainly seemed to enjoy it at any rate.

She unbuttoned her tunic, letting the cooler air nip at her belly and chest. “What would you do if you could feel me?” She pushed up his shirt further and kissed along the flushed skin of his shoulders.

“Please you with my mouth, m-my tongue, as you have me.”

She hummed, sinking down again between his cheeks, probing him with her tongue. “Like this?” He could only sigh in response.

“I think—I think I’d rather fuck you against this table until you can’t stand.”

The cry Cullen let out was strangled, his hole clenching with want against her fingers. “M-maker’s breathe!” His legs trembled and he pushed back against her, rolling his hips against the corner of the desk. She smirked at how uncomfortable that must be, and how desperate he must be to continue to do it.

She glanced at the loft above them. _The loft with a bloody hole in the roof, Cullen what were you thinking?_ “Or... you could hurry up that ladder and we could do this in the comfort of a feather bed. Then I wouldn’t have to carry you up there afterwards as I fully intend to curl up next to you and sleep and I won’t do that on the floor.”

It wasn’t a test but perhaps it could construed as such as vulnerability and gentleness was a new thing for her. He shifted then, turning to face her with a growl and pushed her backward until she hit the ladder, kissing her hard and messy on the mouth. It was an opening she allowed him. Nothing wrong with a bit of dominance. He placed a leather clad thigh between her legs and pressed. The action was a surprise and she let out a moan as the feeling coursed through her, she’d barely touched herself despite desiring to. Trevelyan squeezed Cullen’s bare ass, pulling him in as she rocked against him. She felt her control slipping, his hands were roaming as his tongue sought hers, their shared breathes mingling and ragged. _What was it like to breathe again?_

They finally broke away and crawled up the ladder, discarding clothing along the way. Between dancing limbs and desperate lips they toppled together, collapsing onto a soft feather bed.

Cullen scrambled up the mattress and rolled to his side, taking in her figure as she regained her composure. It was remarkably difficult to steady her breathing—his figure and expression never failed to make a flush rise up her cheeks; for all reason to leave her.

Cullen’s lips twitched in amusement at her open expression of want. “Come on then,” he pressed gently, lounging out, letting his muscles flex and display. He knew very well what a delight he was for the eyes. She swallowed, hard pressed to look away yet knowing she must in order to get them where they needed to be. It would be easy to just sink between his thighs and suck him off until he lay boneless but yet... the hungry look in his eyes spurred her on.

She grabbed the small vile of oil and attached her harness with the enchanted toy Dagna had crafted her. Long, pliable and warm, it had served her well. _Ah the wonders of magical science_. She grinned. Cassandra would have a fit if she knew what inquisition resources were being used for. _Oh well. We’re doing the maker’s work._

Cullen was staring at her with eyes darkened with arousal. His scarred fingers lightly trailing along his bare stomach and along the length of himself. He was waiting patiently, teasing himself and her with his restraint.

She licked her lips, warmth coiling low in her belly as she clenched dully around the toy. When she pounced on him, she thrilled at the weight of her changing body— the thread of muscles along her waist and thickening thighs and shoulders. She could hold him down now and press into him in a way he deeply appreciated.

She snagged a pillow and placed it under his hips evoking a moan in anticipation. He bucked up against her hips, fingers groping the sheets.

“Patience” she murmured, patting his hip, though she had little herself. The muscles of his back and the intense look he cast toward her over his shoulder held her enthralled.

So, she took her time, kissing along his shoulders, back and neck. Her oiled fingers wrap around the toy as she angled against his entrance. “You want this?” She cursed at the raggedness of her breathing, the lack of control, while adrenaline skipped along her spine and cheeks.

“Ev, please. Maker, yes.” He gasped out as she pushed in gently, waiting for him to sink back before moving again. Their breathing mingled and echoed in the air, heartbeats thrumming. She considered how perfect and flawed and perfectly flawed he was. Scars and all. She felt a tug in the heart to match the throb between her thighs.

When she felt him push back and relaxed she leaned over him, pulling at his curled, dampened hair to expose his neck. She bit up the sensitive flesh and groaned into his ear as she snapped her hips and brought a gasp from his lips. “M-maker, h-how... ”

“How?”

“H-harder,” he gasped as she thrust into him again, wrapping her arm around his chest and keeping him close to her. The slap of their thighs echoed in the small room, and reverberated up her bodies. She felt herself teetering on the edge, muscles clenching with each slide and pull and press of their bodies. Cullen’s head was hanging low, resting on the pillow, body utterly limp and pliant. She knew it wouldn’t take much to take both of them over the edge, his breathing and low keening was evidence enough.

She gave him what he needed and reduced her pace to slow, heavy thrusts, wrapping her hand along his length, smiling at the violent twitch she received in response. “Yesss,” Cullen hissed, rolling his hips into her hand as he lost himself in overpowering sensations.

A whimper left his throat as he convulsed and came over her hand, leaving her clenching and aching around the toy with need for release. _Andraste preserve me_. Cullen tensed as she pulled free from him gently, sighing in contented pleasure when he relaxed back, utterly spent.

Cullen grinned at her, utterly sated and pleased. She rolled to her side, pulling him to her and kissing him gently. He trailed his hands along her side and removed the toy, placing one of those wonderfully large and warm hands between her thighs. They couldn’t help but gasp at how.. _Andstrate’s tits_ , how wet she was, his fingers slipping along her and pressing with determined pressure.

She came against his hand, rocking her hips, hands trailing along his jaw.

She let them enjoy a moment of tenderness afterwards. His hands trailing along the sharpness of her jawline, rasping along stubble and heated skin. His eyes were warm against hers.

“That was... “ he had no words. The exhalation of breathe had to be enough.

Neither of them had words for the bubbling feeling and connection they had. The confusing well of emotions had to be sorted, put perhaps not just now. They had a world to save, so the seeker continued to remind her.

So she smiled and pressed a kiss to his nose in agreement. “That was.”


End file.
